How We Began
by Bookreader525
Summary: Buster can't remember how he and Ash first got together. She reminds him. One shot.


**This is for my friend Lu, in honor of his very kind and heartfelt review over on my fic "When He Fell." Thank you, and in return here is a quick little 1272-word thingy ;)**

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"You know what I just realized?"

Ash blinks, propping herself on one elbow and reaching for the TV remote to set the movie on pause. This is not the first time Buster has suddenly began talking in the middle of a quiet activity. She cranes her neck to look at him with a playful smirk. "Yeah? What's that?"

He shrugs lamely, slouching against the couch's plush pillows. "I don't even remember how we started."

"What?" Her brow furrows. "Like, how we first got together?" At his mournful nod, she snorts. "Very funny. You're joking, right?"

"No!" Buster's fluffy ears sag, as if the immense weight of gravity is forcing them down. "I'm not kidding. I was sitting here just now, trying to think how you and I became a couple. I mean, of course I remember how we first met, with the singing competition and everything, but... I don't remember when love entered the equation."

He looks so depressed at this realization, and it tugs at her heartstrings just the tiniest bit. She slides over on the sofa, moving closer to him. Being the little jackass she is, she decides to play with his vulnerable emotions for a moment.

Ash plasters a devastated expression onto her face, as if she just watched all her loved ones get murdered. She snags his gaze, icy blue meeting warm blue evenly. "You... you really don't remember?" she whispers, tossing in a sniffle for extra effect. Immediately his eyes start to well up with tears. Once he told her that he is allergic to her unhappiness, and now she sees that he really wasn't lying.

"I'm sorry..." he sighs. "I just... I can't..."

Right then she chooses to drop the act, wiping the frown off her face and replacing it with a cheerful grin. "Baby, it's okay. You don't have to remember how we began. All that matters now is that we are together in the first place. That's what is important here. Right?"

He scowls at her for the joke, but the anger melts away to reveal a fresh layer of disappointment. "I guess. But still, don't you remember?"

"Of course," she answers. "I can tell you how we got together if you really wanna know."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Ash pauses in order to draw up some anticipation from him, then starts talking in a low, sultry voice. "Well, let's see... first, there was a little bit of this." She leans in close to him, cupping one side of his face with her hand and stroking his jawbone softly. "Then some of this." She moves in as close as she can go without combining the atoms of their existence - which is, admittedly, something she would consider if it were not so sci-fi and weird. Ash then nestles her head just under his chin. "Then this." Her lips ghost his neck, breath stirring the downy gray fur there. "And..." She nibbles on the sensitive skin, and he shudders. "... some of this."

Buster groans. "Oh, Ash... I don't see how I could forget this."

"True. This is pretty... unforgettable," she replies, still maintaining the sly and sensual tone. "How about you take a turn, hon?"

"Gladly." Seconds later, she feels his fingers tracing along the side of her face, travelling down and down, along her collarbone and further down, reaching under her shirt and teasing the fur there. He twists and caresses gently while she resumes nipping at his neck. After two years of dating, they both know the other's weaknesses. Just the tiniest sampling of her kryptonite transforms her into putty in his hands. She lets her lips kiss and suck their way upward to meet his mouth in a tender, passionate embrace of tongues.

When they break apart after a while, both are absolutely breathless. "Do you remember now?" she asks with the remaining air in her lungs.

"Maybe. I think I'm getting there," he says. "I just need a little bit more reminding first."

She loves when he gets playful like this. It is a side of him that so rarely shows itself, so whenever this emotion gets a chance in the spotlight (especially without the involvement of alcohol), she makes sure to take fair and just advantage of it. It's like he gets drunk on her need for him, and she loves that.

Just as the moment gets very heated, with his bow tie and top two shirt buttons undone and her skirt on the floor, he interrupts it with the very last couple of words she ever expected to hear.

"Marry me," he breathes into her neck.

"What?" She pulls back sharply, eyes already quadrupling in size. "What - what did you just say?"

"Marry me," he repeats, this time more seriously.

Ash can think of nothing else to do besides gulp and sit there dumbly. "... what?"

Buster exhales and relaxes against a pillow. The glow from the paused TV screen reflects in his eyes, highlighting the sincerity they contain even more than usual. "I'm being serious, Ash. I... I think we should get married. We've been together for two years. What the hell?"

"No, what the actual hell!" Ash sputters. She wants to tear herself away from him, but it is like trying to tear a tree out of the ground. She can not resist his cuddles. After fifteen or so seconds, she manages to gather herself and compose a decent enough response. "Listen, I... I really appreciate you asking me that, Buster. I do. It's just... this is pretty much the last way I would've expected you to propose. Knowing you, I'd think you would go with something big and flashy, something similar to the end of one of your shows. Not... not a half-mumbled question in the middle of a make-out session." She tilts her head, studying his face carefully. "I mean, don't you understand?"

He shrugs. "All I heard there was the 'I do' part."

"Buster!"

"Alright, alright." He reaches for her hand, wrapping his fingers over hers and giving them a soothing squeeze. "I know what you mean, sweetheart. But maybe I just... wanted to surprise you in a different way. It's not flashy or anything, but in a way I'm still throwing the big element of surprise at you, right?"

She inclines her head, refusing to meet his imploring stare.

"Ash. Come on."

"Fine," she mumbles after a minute.

"Fine to what?"

The porcupine sits up fully on his lap and grabs his other hand. "Fine to getting married."

She feels his hand stiffen in her grasp, however. "Ash, I don't want it to just be 'fine.' I want it to be more than fine, better than fine! I want it to be 'yes,' to be 'of course,' to be 'I'd love to!' I don't want you to only be fine with it. If you're not ready, then... I'm not either."

Ash narrows her eyes into skeptical shards of cobalt. "Babe, you better not play the 'it's just that I'm getting old' card on me right now."

"I swear I won't," he assures her with a quick shake of his head. "I only want you to be happy. If you're happy, then we're thriving. I won't force you into anything. I promise."

"Okay. And what if I promise that 'fine' means 'absolutely yes'?" Ash asks.

His furry eyebrows lift. "It does?"

"It does." She smiles. "I promise it does." Her fingers move to nimbly undo the rest of his shirt buttons. "And besides, I kinda like the ring 'Ashlynn Moon' has to it."

"Me too," he chuckles. "Me too." Then he plants a delicate kiss on her lips.


End file.
